


the king and i

by drainz



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, POV Second Person, this one is uh. Pretty Sad!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drainz/pseuds/drainz
Summary: “Nothing for it. I’m going to put the fear of God into that boy.”God, in this case, being Reni Kamikizaka, but you’re not about to judge anyone for a healthy dose of narcissism. No one likes a hypocrite.~~Second-person Haruto character study. Tags... read 'em.
Relationships: Asuka Haruto/Kamikizaka Reni, Asuka Haruto/Takatoo Tasuku, Takatoo Tasuku/Tsukioka Tsumugi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	the king and i

“Haruto. Come.”

An old instinct, long since buried, tells you from deep beneath the dirt that no one talks to you that way without regretting it.

“Sir,” you say, and go to his side.

Scanning his face from a step-and-a-half behind is second-nature in a similar way; he’s volatile (not that you can talk), so you try to be aware of his emotions at all times, even above your own, even when he isn’t, and without him knowing you’re doing it. 

It’s easy, though. For such a fucking phenomenal actor (no matter what he thinks), the second Reni steps offstage, he’s an open book, everything on display. It’s one of the things you love about him. You’d never tell him that, but it is.

Right now you can see that he’s troubled, specifically in a way that has to do with theater.  _ Probably  _ in a way that has to do with fucking Tachibana and the pathetic group of quasi-homeless people she calls a theater company. Honestly, you’ve seen them act. You don’t know what the hell he’s so worried about. But there was a time when you’d never seen him worried at all before  _ her  _ name started floating around, so you know that it’s something.

“Our little rat didn’t call me last night. Again.” He flicks his hair behind his shoulders with his hand in that way you like. It’s still hot, even when he’s annoyed like this. “I’m beginning to doubt his loyalty.”

You’re genuinely surprised. The bright-eyed little ensemble kid he picked out for the job seemed devoted. A real anything-for-theater type. You can relate, which is why you didn’t hate him for the crime of dividing Reni’s attention, but if he’s a damn traitor –

“If he needs some persuasion back to the cause –”

_ “No.” _

You wait, because you know from his voice he has more to say, but he doesn’t say it. When you reach the theater, he swings the door wide and holds it, so you start in, but he touches your shoulder. More than enough to stop you. 

Like flowers in the sun, when he moves, you move towards him. He strokes up from your neck and tips up your chin with one finger. “Still a brute underneath everything I’ve taught you.”

You close your eyes briefly, and swallow. “I’m sorry.”

The right thing to say, evidently, as he lets you go.

There’s no rehearsal scheduled right now; some of the more zealous ensemble members are messing around from an old script – coordinated with some friends from the crew in the back, clearly, since they’re actually lit well – along with Tasuku, because he’s always here. He seems to be sort of casually coaching the others, and they might be more star-struck than some of his biggest fans.

“Haruto!” One of them calls, not Tasuku, but he turns his head. He smiles when he sees you, just a little, just  _ from  _ seeing you, which gives you stupid fluttery feelings you wish would die. “Come down here! We’re doing bits of  _ The King and I  _ – you really like that one, right?”

You do. It’s a musical that’s not handled like a musical; it’s subdued, saving the inherent gauche of the genre to be an effect, when present at all. Refined. 

It occurs to you that this kid cares enough about you to remember something small, and you can’t even remember his name. Tasuku probably knows all of their names. A prick of guilt sticks you. Tall, brown hair, bit loud. You’ll find it out later. 

“Are you coming?” Reni takes back your attention, but it’s not a question. Not that it would be, even if he’d meant it as one.

You nod, he turns, and you smile and answer “Another time!” down to the stage before you follow him. You feel Tasuku’s eyes on you for a few seconds after you look away.

Reni goes into his office first, and you shut the door behind the both of you. 

“You’re at  _ least  _ right that positive reinforcement isn’t doing the trick,” he murmurs, half to himself, as he goes to his desk. “Nothing for it. I’m going to put the fear of God into that boy.”

God, in this case, being Reni Kamikizaka, but you’re not about to judge anyone for a healthy dose of narcissism. No one likes a hypocrite.

“Like anybody’d be stupid enough to cross you. He’s probably not calling ‘cause he’s  _ already  _ scared of you.” 

“That’d be the opposite of you,” he points out drily. You blush, but you don’t deny it.

It wrings a smile out of him, anyway. His hair falls in gentle waves when he tilts his head at you. “You’re still afraid of me.”

You look at him and huff, incredulous. “Of course I am.”

“Haruto.” It’s heated and  _ fond  _ in that way that makes your insides turn to liquid. “How sweet.”

“I can be sweeter.”

He says nothing, but lifts an eyebrow, swivels his chair towards you, and opens his legs.

You twist the lock on the door.

“I should really have a pillow for you in here, sweet,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek; you close your eyes and push into his hand. “Your poor knees.”

You shake your head, press your face into his thigh. “Not what I’m thinking about.”

He laughs. “Oh, I know.”

~~

_ “There _ you are.”

Tasuku’s voice is gentle, warm – as warm as he can manage – and would be inviting under any other circumstances. 

You turn around.

“Hey, wait –”

He catches your shoulder, smiling at you for a fraction of a section before his expression clouds. 

“Genta.”

Disgust curls your lip, scrunches your face up. Reni’s voice in your head tells you it’s not a flattering expression. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

You don’t care that he can tell. You don’t care. You can walk out of the office with sex hair all you fucking like. It’s not like it’s a fucking secret. Reni  _ made  _ you. That comes with perks. 

“It’s your name,” Tasuku says. “It’s a nice name.”

It isn’t. It’s crude and harsh and just the kind of name a thug from the Kansai slums would have. People were afraid Genta would steal their wallet, not the spotlight.

You elect to roll your eyes and walk away rather than explain that, but he grabs your wrist, and he’s strong enough to stop you. 

You turn back around to tell him to  _ let go _ or maybe  _ fuck off _ , you haven’t decided, and then you don’t get to. Because his other hand comes up to hold your face, and then he’s leaning down almost comically far and he’s kissing you, Christ.

Your mouth definitely still tastes like cum. He pushes his tongue in anyway, and you moan and suck because you’re weak and the only God you care about isn’t watching. 

In your head you’re already making this into something you can handle. Reni’s number one thinks he gets access to the lapdog. 

It’s Tasuku. You should know better.

When he pulls away, you could have been kissing for a second or an hour, and he’s breathing heavy still so close to your face that you don’t notice for a moment that his is  _ scarlet _ . He rolls his lower lip into his mouth as he stands up straight.

_ See _ , you tell yourself. _ He’s already embarrassed. He’s a good boy, he knows better than to play with toys that aren’t his _ . 

But he’s still holding your wrist.

You start to take it back; he tightens his grip. Meets your eyes and locks your fingers together instead.

“Tasuku.” 

_ “‘Behold, and believe what you see.’” _

That’s – you laugh. “Oh,  _ really? _ ”

He looks away, and you feel a little bad, but it’s cute how he blushes to the tips of his ears like that. You suppose between you two, he’d have to be the civilised Anna, which is funny on its own.

“Shut up.” He smiles a little, too. Looks down at your hands. 

“… Someday I’m gonna show you how someone’s supposed to love you. How you deserve.”

“I don’t need to be rescued, Tasuku.”

He scoffs. “Because I’m such a hero. Every time he touches you I want to punch something.”

“Is that supposed to be sexy? It’s creepy.”

“I love you, Genta.”

Fuck. 

His hand’s still holding yours. He holds them up and kisses your knuckles; you tug him back down by his stupid faux-hawk and kiss his lips. 

~~

But the rat squeaks, and Tasuku finds out you really  _ are  _ a bad person, because you’d given him cause to doubt that, somewhere, you guess. And there’s a taller, prettier,  _ nicer  _ boy who loves him. Of course there is. He likes flowers. You hate him.

There’s a pillow in the office now. It’s goose down and satin and has your name embroidered in the corner. Haruto.

He was right about something, you imagine. This is how you’re supposed to be loved. 

**Author's Note:**

> i am sorry,


End file.
